Thoughts and feelings from Sirius and Regulus about why Sirius left and what they're going to do with their lives now. Some humor, some angst, and hopefully some romance later on. Enjoy! Adult themes, it'll get worse later on: drinking, some other stuff.

Disclaimer: Own
nothing. Love it deeply and religiously, but own nothing.

A/N: Hmmm, well, here's
another chapter. Obviously it's not in first person this time; I
can never keep that up for long. . . Umm, let's see. Thanks to all
my great reviewers-I think I have, like 7 now. Oh, by the way, if
you're wondering where Peter is in this story, the answer is: he's
not here. I don't like him, I suck at writing his character, so
he's no here. If you really need to know where he went, ummm . ..
He's on vacation in, like Aruba. Or Manchuria. And he's not
coming back for a long, long time.

Regulus took a deep
breath. He let it out slowly, trying not to let it sound like a
long-suffering sigh. He failed miserably.

Sirius was walking
behind him, with his miserable little friends, making snide comments.
Loudly. About everything ranging from Regulus's mother to his
supposed impotence.

Regulus really did not
want to reply and turn this into an all out war. He knew exactly what
Sirius was doing (as though he didn't always do it, jealous and
angry as he was), and there were enough people watching this
spectacle already without Regulus's input.

He had hoped that,
after Sirius had left home, that Sirius would leave him alone at
school, or at least have the decency to ignore him after leaving him
so abruptly. But Sirius, as Regulus was constantly reminding himself,
did not have as many positive attributes as Sirius himself claimed to
have. He did not have any decency or, as far as Regulus could tell,
compassion for his enemies. Regulus was just the teensiest bit
annoyed. Maybe a little more than a teensy bit. Maybe a lot. Maybe he
was really, really angry and maybe that smug bastard behind him
deserved every bit of abuse he had ever gotten or was ever likely to
get in the future.

In any case, Regulus
was making a monumental effort not to turn around and hex the hell
out of his brother and his scruffy little friends. (Although, only
one of his scruffy friends was actually scruffy, at least by
Regulus's family's traditional definition of the word; Potter was
pureblood, albeit one-half Russian, but Lupin was half and half.) If
Regulus were to curse them all, there wasn't a judge alive that
could convict him. But Regulus had always prided himself on his
self-control. He was always in complete command of his emotions and
actions. For this reason, he never drank, or did anything outside of
moderation. He also, unlike his brother, didn't do stupid things.
He couldn't bring himself to, even if doing something stupid, like
begging for mercy, or some other such weakness, might save him a lot
of pain.

Regulus realized,
suddenly, that his brother and his friends (or, to be fair, his
friend; only Potter was joining in with the hilarity) were being
awfully quiet. Regulus tilted his head to listen. Yes, they were
still behind him, whispering. He tensed and listened more closely.

"-and just relax,
Moony. It's not a big deal, and you know it." This was Sirius.

"Mangy mutt,"
Remus growled. "It is a big deal, you're acting like a complete
and utter-"

"Come on," James
interrupted. "It's just a little payback."

"And what'd he
ever do to you?" Remus wanted to know, apparently speaking to
James.

Sirius, however, was
the one who answered. "He was part of my family?"

Regulus smiled. So
Lupin was defending him. Regulus knew he liked him for some reason.

Remus was exasperated.
"But what specifically?" he asked.

"Hated me with the
rest of them," Sirius said.

At this Regulus
paused. He had never hated Sirius. Never. He didn't hate anyone; he
wasn't capable of it. But even if he was, it wouldn't be Sirius
he would hate.

"And what did he do
to demonstrate that?" Remus asked. He seemed to know Sirius vastly
better than Sirius knew himself.

Regulus turned around,
wincing internally as he did. This was one of those stupid things he
never did. "Yeah, Sirius, what?" he asked. He hadn't meant to
sound so defensive. He really wanted to know.

Sirius stopped walking
and looked at his brother with something resembling hatred. He didn't
speak, as Regulus hoped that he would, but only turned away, leading
James off to some corner to discuss what prank they were going to
pull on him next. Remus stayed a moment. He saw as Regulus turned
away, obviously with effort, and walk towards the dungeons as the
crowds dispersed off to classes.

And Remus's keen
ears could hear Regulus, nearly at his classroom door, whisper,
"Sirius," before he, too, had disappeared, and Remus was left in
an empty hallway, with the portraits staring at him, and another
prefect heading towards him. Remus took off after his friends.

Regulus suffered
through class, not listening much to Professor Binns's lecture.
But, then, that was nothing unusual. What was unusual was his
brother-no not his brother anymore, Regulus reminded himself. Sirius
had run away. Sirius had been disowned. Sirius was now living either
with James or on the streets with some gang or other during the
holidays. Not his brother. Never really had been. And . . . wouldn't
be.

Regulus lay his head
down on his desk. He felt very young suddenly. It was a strange,
unfamiliar feeling, and he didn't know quite what to do. He should
just forget Sirius. This whole situation was entirely too sentimental
to him. Sirius had never really wanted him anyway, so why was he
grieving the loss of a brother who hadn't been around, and who
didn't even like him. Yet, he had said, that night so long ago . .
.

"Reggie?"
That was Sirius's pet name for him. No one else called him that. Or
Sirius would call him 'kid.' "Reggie, are you okay?"

Regulus had given
him a strange, perhaps even scornful look. Sirius was standing in his
doorway, leaning against the expensive mahogany doorframe, with both
hands shoved inside his pockets. That pose, Regulus had learned
throughout the years, meant Sirius was feeling insecure. He'd
answered after a brief, deliberately awkward pause. "Yeah. Why?"
He put his leather book away in its drawer and locked it.

Regulus had raised
an eyebrow. "'Here'?" he had asked. "What do you mean?"

"Here," Sirius
had repeated himself. "Y'know. At home. With mother and Lucius
and." The words had been faltering, each one almost a separate
sentence.

Regulus shrugged.
He didn't want to talk about it. He'd never had as much trouble
with the 'character building' as Sirius had had.

"Because, if you
need me, I won't leave you," Sirius had told him. "I won't."
These words were clear, and it had seemed to Regulus as though this
was really what Sirius had wanted to say the whole time. What he had
been leading up to with every faltering comment.

Because of this,
because of the comment's nature, and because Sirius had never
seemed to show much interest in Regulus before, Regulus felt as
though he'd been given a gift. "Thank you," he'd said. He
felt like he should thank him. He was grateful towards Sirius, after
all. But from the look Sirius was giving him, Regulus felt as though
he'd failed some sort of test.

The memory
stopped there, as Professor Binns dismissed the class. Regulus
glanced down and, with surprise, realized that his notes were blank.
He always took notes, even when, for the most part, he wasn't
paying attention.

Regulus just shook it
off and shoved his things into his book bag. He'd read the chapter
later. Odds were, he already knew it. He stood, straightened his
shoulders, and headed to lunch.

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